


Like a Scent in the Breeze

by Anonymous



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/





	Like a Scent in the Breeze

The sound of the lube bottle flipping closed seems so loud in the silence. Even as he tells himself to get a grip, Kanou cannot fight the shudder that runs through his body.

"Kanou." He feels a hand brushing the hair away from his forehead and he opens his eyes, sees Oda peering at him. "Are you okay?"

He nods.

"You sure? 'Cause if you're not ready--"

"Quiet," his voice comes out more tremulous than it should be. "You're ruining the moment."

Oda chuckles and kisses him leisurely, calming him like he's an animal ready to flee, with soft kisses on his stomach, his hip, around his navel. There's something cold and wet tracing a line from the back of his knee, moving across his thigh and further. He sucks in his breath, shivering. Feels two fingers slip inside him.

And Kanou loses of all shields of self.

Memory dissolves, time fades out, anything that isn't the blunt reality of a hand lifting his leg, lips sucking a line upwards to his chest, or slick, questing fingers moving into him. Scissoring.

A shudder quakes his body again. He cries out involuntarily but Oda's lips are there, taming him again as it skims his neck, his jawline, breathing comforting nonsense into Kanou's skin. Promises that Kanou is embarrassed to crave.

Oda prepares him for a long time.

He wanted, yearned, to nestle into the crook of Oda's neck and stay there, averting his face from the cold rush of the night-time air. But Oda doesn't let him. He murmurs, "Wait," against his ear before shifting, leaning back. Kanou reaches for his warmth instinctively and before he can comprehend what is happening, the world rearranges itself beneath him. Kanou is now on top, his body lifting up and then descending into the heat of Oda's cock as it breaches him.

Hips nudging and rocking upward, he opens Kanou up even wider--the slow, hot burn radiates to the tip of Kanou's toes. His fingers rake across bony shoulders hard enough to break skin but Oda doesn't flinch--he's still watching.

Kanou closes his eyes and whimpers. He never knew what deep meant before, never knew full. Calloused fingers are gently massaging the small of his back, easing him, but there are still too many pinpricks of feeling and he lets out a sob.

He is breathing too hard, chest heaving. Feels too alive to stay sane like this.

"Does it feel good?" he asks in a splintered voice--he honestly isn't sure.

Oda kisses him clumsily, roughly, and gives him a goofy smile. It should be out of place in this scenario, but it fits. Kanou hears him sigh, "Yeah. I wish you could see."

"What?" He is still being stretched. And still going down. He wonders if he'll fall like this for a long time. "Can see what?"

Almost regrets asking as Oda stills, completely inside him. Kanou is naked in the way that has nothing to do with clothes, and everything to do with how Oda's fingers are brushing away damp locks of hair from his face. "The way you look right now."

Kanou's body pumps down its own volition, his thighs straining at the movement, every fiber of his being racing to that all-consuming wash of light that Oda's body seems to promise. He's on the verge of something raw and clumsily intense--he reaches it completely unprepared as orgasm courses through him like lightning. A broken sound escapes from somewhere deep inside. It makes Oda grip his hip, slamming him downwards as Oda thrusts up, and Kanou vaguely thinks about the bruises he will need to hide at the locker room tomorrow, the fingermarks that will bloom on the inside of his thigh where Oda is clutching him too tightly.

Oda comes inside him, whispering Kanou, Kanou, Kanou, against his shoulder.

Breathing heavily, Kanou doesn't move for a long time, merely drapes his arms over Oda's back, drawing symbols on his sweat-dampened skin. He is living inside his body like he never has before.

Later, when he tries to stand up and half-stumbles, wincing at the sudden twinge of pain, Oda props him up, holds him flush against his wiry body and he tells Kanou, "It's fine. I got you."


End file.
